


NoStrings

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: It's an app on her mobile that promises to bring people together with the caveat of no strings.  But what if the strings of the past already exist?  Will that matter?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 24
Kudos: 235
Collections: Smutty Claus Exchange





	NoStrings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravenslight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenslight/gifts).



> Written for the final **Smutty_Claus** gift exchange. I sort of got inspired by your "I like bad ideas" prompt in an odd sort of way. I hope you don't mind the slight AU. It's not truly AU because I'm pants at making things truly AU. But there are mobiles! Special thank you to **cryptaknight** for looking it over. Merry holidays to everyone and a happy new year!

**23 December 2010**

Hermione sat on her lumpy sofa, the old clock chiming the hour behind her, and reached for her glass of wine. She tapped lightly on the keys of her laptop, finishing up a missive to the Ministry before sending it off to the printer upstairs. Quills and parchment were one thing, but nothing would ever beat the ease of a computer and she enjoyed working from home for that reason alone.

Straddling the Muggle and Wizarding world had its distinct advantages and the technological changes over the last few years was certainly one of them.

Glancing at the clock, she counted the hours and calculated the time difference between England and Australia before reaching for her mobile. It was the morning of the twenty-fourth for them and even if it was early, she knew both her parents were early risers. As she typed out the long, international number, Hermione leaned back on the cushions. It had taken a few years for her parents to forgive her for the memory charms and their relationship had really never truly recovered to the point it had been before she'd sent them away. 

But it was getting there.

"Good morning, Mum," she said as the soft hello greeted her on the other side. "Happy Christmas Eve!"

It was a good half hour later when she finally bid her parents goodbye. Part of her wished she'd taken advantage of their offer of a sunny Australian Christmas, but it just wasn't in the cards. So many other people had holidays booked that the Ministry was running on a skeleton crew. Not to mention her bank account didn't exactly have the wiggle room for an extended holiday overseas.

But had she known that everyone else was going to be gone for the season, she might have reconsidered. Ron was off spending Christmas with Charlie in Romania. Harry had plans with his new girlfriend that didn't involve anyone else in his immediate circle of friends and that included Hermione as well. Sure, she could have asked Mrs Weasley for a seat at the Christmas table and more than likely the older woman would have welcomed her with open arms, but Hermione didn't feel comfortable inserting herself into the Weasley family these days.

Messy break-ups were the worst.

Leaning over, she snatched up the charging cord for her phone and plugged it in. She lay on her stomach and thumbed through the pages of apps that she'd downloaded, pausing only when she saw something unfamiliar. It was a little red square with two candy-canes shaped into a heart. Hermione thought back to who might have downloaded the thing, but couldn't remember who had touched her phone last. Maybe it had been little Victoire the last time she'd visited with Fleur and Bill.

She went to delete it, but curiosity and perhaps the wine got the better of her and she tapped on it instead.

_NoStrings - Sometimes You Just Want No Strings for the Holidays_

She couldn't help but laugh. Victoire had obviously not realised it was a hook-up app and had just gravitated toward the heart made of candy-canes. Again, Hermione went to delete the little program off of her phone, but at the last moment she stopped. She looked around the flat, taking in the wine glass on the coffee table next to her computer, the grizzled old cat sleeping on the armchair in the corner. There was even a doily sitting on a side table.

A doily.

With a grimace, Hermione sat up. "When did I suddenly become a little old lady?" she asked.

Crookshanks cracked his eyes, but gave no response except to stretch out a paw.

Glancing back at the phone in her hand, Hermione reached for her wine and drained the glass. It wouldn't hurt to see what was out there. It was just a phone app after all. Pointing her wand at the kitchen, she floated the open bottle of wine out into the sitting room and filled her glass again, settling in to sign up an account on _NoStrings_.

The response was immediate. Likes and messages from strangers around the neighbourhood lit up her phone. Most were questionable, a lot of them were filled with the foulest language she had ever come across and she'd spent her formative years with Ron Weasley and his potty mouth. It was an ego boost though, she had to admit. She'd only attached a somewhat blurry photo of her face obscured by her glass of wine and still the comments that were good filled her with a fairly satisfied feeling.

One message, however, caught her eye.

**GEMJU580:** _No one should obscure their face with such cheap pinot._

Hermione stifled a laugh and looked to her glass and then to the bottle of wine that had quite literally been purchased at the supermarket down the road. Before she could stop herself, she tapped on the message in her inbox and replied.

**BKSANDWINE:** _You're an expert on pinot, then? It's not even a clear picture. How do you know it's cheap?_

It took a few minutes before her phone buzzed with a new alert.

**GEMJU580:** _Because if it was expensive, you would have shown off the bottle. So is it?_

**BKSANDWINE:** _Is what?_

**GEMJU580:** _You can't sigh on this damn thing. But just pretend I sighed with slight frustration at you being evasive. Is the wine cheap?_

Hermione shook her head wondering why she didn't feel at all insulted by these messages. She let him wait for a few moments before tapping out a reply.

**BKSANDWINE:** _Does it really matter so long as the wine is enjoyed?_

The response was almost instant. He'd been waiting on her. Hermione felt a little thrill at that.

**GEMJU580:** _Absolutely. Please don't tell me that you're truly enjoying cheap wine._

**BKSANDWINE:** _Fine. I won't tell you._

It went on like that for hours. It wasn't until she noticed the clock chiming smaller hours than it had been chiming before that she realised it was well past midnight and she had to be into the Ministry early to deliver her printed report before things closed down for the next couple of days. She sent one final message to GEMJU580 and closed the app, her mobile almost overheating in her hands. Scrubbing her fingers through her hair, Hermione stretched and got up off the sofa, heading up to bed.

Though a part of her truly wanted to stay up later.

**24 December 2010**

"Why are you still here, Granger?" a voice called out from across the room.

Hermione looked up from the biro she was rolling back and forth across her desk while she waited for the Yaxley files to be delivered. Her purse sat at her elbow and the flat screen of her phone stared back at her almost teasingly. She'd checked it in the morning before work and answered a silly message from GEMJU580 before tucking it away. No service inside the depths of the ministry so she found herself practically dying of curiosity. She gave Kingsley a smile and leaned back in her chair. She liked that he addressed her like he did all the other junior ministers in the department. He'd tried just calling her Miss Granger or Hermione once, but she'd put a stop to that. 

_I don't want to be treated any differently._

"Just waiting on Records," she said. "Annalyse is on her own down there, so things are moving slower."

He pointed at her with a stern look. "Go to lunch, Granger. Everyone else has and I won't have people thinking I'm a tyrant for working you through your meal." She glanced at her phone and then back at him, opening her mouth. But he held up his hand and pointed to the exit. " _Go_."

So she went.

Some time later, Hermione was seated in a little cafe a few streets down from the phone booth entrance to the Ministry. The little candy cane app had a number of little red alert dots and she tapped on the square while she waited for her food.

**GEMJU580:** _The ugly little monsters I work with at the bank think closing early on Christmas Eve is useless when there is money to be made._

**GEMJU580:** _I'll not be held responsible if I murder them all._

**GEMJU580:** _I'd even drown myself in that cheap pinot of yours to get out of working today._

**GEMJU580:** _Save me from tedious and boring work. You're the only interesting person I have to talk to._

**BKSANDWINE:** _You shouldn't talk about your bosses like that. The more you look at the clock, the slower time will pass. Can't have lunch with your friends?_

The response was almost immediate.

**GEMJU580:** _All gone for the holidays._

**BKSANDWINE:** _Parents?_

**GEMJU580:** _Would rather not. My mother will be on my case about things that I really don't wish to discuss on this thing._

Hermione stirred her spoon around in the lamb stew she'd ordered before licking the savoury gravy off the back of it. She stared at the last message and then looked around the cafe, tapping the spoon against her bottom lip. She wasn't naive. Meeting some anonymous person on an app designed to hook people up over the holidays wasn't a thing that smart and cautious people did. Of course, she _was_ a Gryffindor and wasn't she supposed to have a reputation of being impulsive and reckless?

Well she was _supposed_ to, but that wasn't the case.

Tapping her thumb against the delete square on the screen, she erased the half typed invitation.

Maybe it was better if she just flirted. No harm in flirting with a stranger who didn't know her face? Right? Tucking into the stew, Hermione wriggled a bit and let " **BKSANDWINE** " lead the way.

It was probably an hour later when she realised she'd spent far too much time sitting in the cafe, pinging messages back and forth with this mystery person. Her food had been cleared ages ago and the servers had stopped coming by her table to refill her teapot. With a flushed face, she threw some notes into a billfold and handed it to the person at the hostess stand before hurrying back to the Ministry. She stared at the unsent message on her screen as she waited her turn for the entrance, the message was simple and it made her heart flutter with nerves because if she was honest with herself it was a bad idea to consider this. She had no idea who this flirty person was on the other end. 

Obviously she'd faced worse...

The door on the bright red phone booth popped open and she stepped inside. Normally she didn't take the visitor's entrance to the Ministry, but the cafe was directly across the street and it drew much less attention than making sure that the muggles on the street didn't see her apparate.

**BKSANDWINE:** _If I invited you to my flat tonight, would you say yes?_

The reply came almost immediately.

**GEMJU580:** _Yes. I would._

And just before she lost service as the lift started to descend, Hermione typed out her flat's address and pressed the little send arrow. 

"Go home, Granger," Kingsley said as she slid into her chair.

"I'm not done with the—"

"You're the only one who came back after lunch and you did the majority of what needed to be completed today before you left. The Yaxley files will wait until after Boxing Day." He gave her an uncharacteristically wide smile that lasted only a moment before disappearing. He pointed to the door. "Enjoy your Christmas, Granger."

Hermione gave him a small nod, picking up the purse she'd only just set down. "Happy Christmas, sir."

Once back at street level, her mobile buzzed with an app alert. It had only been maybe twenty minutes since she'd sent the invite to GEMJU580 and she hesitated before opening it to see his response of '7pm'. A nervous flutter settled in her stomach and she wondered if she was actually making a very large error in judgement. She had only been messaging this stranger for less than forty-eight hours and she was already inviting him to her home? Was she mad? Wasn't this how girls got attacked?

Shoving her mobile into her purse, Hermione gave her head a shake. "C'mon Granger," she said under her breath. "Are you a witch or not?"

"What was that, dear?" An elderly lady spoke up from the bench behind her and Hermione blinked, flushing.

"It's nothing," she said quickly, giving the older woman a smile and turning on her heel. 

She distanced herself from the bus stop and then apparated back to her flat. Once at home, she got to work and set some intricate wards and protective spells as a precaution, stepping over the lazy and very ancient Crookshanks as she worked. Once she was finished and satisfied that they would work in an emergency, Hermione stood in the middle of her flat and tried to think of what she ought to do next. The assumption that the meeting would end in sex was not entirely off the table. That was the purpose of the app and the conversation after all. But she worried about looking a little too desperate.

And it was a little cold to be waiting around in some risqué négligée.

Not that she owned risqué négligée. The closest she came was a pretty silk dressing gown that Luna had brought back from a trip to China to look for East Asian Wrackspurts (a completely _different_ variety to the ones found in Europe, obviously). In the end, she decided on a quick shower and some light makeup then dressing in a skirt and jumper.

It was seven on the dot when there was a knock at the door. Hermione finished giving the bottle of red wine a slight chill before she tucked her wand up her sleeve. She reached for the door handle and pulled it open slightly. Really, she ought to have checked the peephole first. Maybe then she wouldn't have been as shocked. Maybe then she would have had the option to not answer the door at all.

Maybe then she wouldn't be holding the door open and standing face to face with Draco Malfoy.

She stared at him.

He stared at her.

She quickly shut the door, just as she heard the bang of his disapparation.

"Oh. My. God." Hermione leaned against the door and slid to the floor.

**25 December 2010**

Hermione slid her fingertip under the edge of the folded paper, tearing it away from the side to which it was taped. She discarded the piece and looked at the book that Harry had sent her. A smile crossed her face because she remembered talking to him extensively on the new edition of _Hogwarts: A History_ at the beginning of the month. Thumbing through the pages, she reached for her cup of tea and took a long drink before setting it aside to join the knitted socks that Mrs Weasley had sent and the few toys that Ginny had gifted Crookshanks.

She glanced at her mobile before picking up her plate and mug. Then she shook her head and scolded herself for even thinking about it, about him. It really wasn't fair. She'd actually had fun with the conversation up until last night. She'd found his posh tone to be silly and rather entertaining. But none of it made sense. It was _Draco Malfoy_. If someone had come up to her and said that Draco Malfoy would connect with her on a mobile app, let alone own and _understand_ how to use a mobile in the first place, Hermione would have probably laughed in their face.

But he had.

And she wasn't laughing.

She reached for her phone. Tapping out the passcode to unlock it, she kept telling herself it was a bad idea. _He_ was a bad idea. He was probably telling all his friends about coming to her flat and finding out it was her and oh of course she must be so completely desperate... Although that would involve him admitting that he was also just as desperate. And that he had a mobile.

How on _earth_ did Draco Malfoy get his hands on a muggle mobile??

The app had a little three in the middle of the red dot.

**GEMJU580:** _I didn't know it was you, Granger._

**GEMJU580:** _This isn't something I normally--_

**GEMJU580:** _Bloody thing is called 'No Strings' for a reason. We should leave it at that, yes?_

He sounded... worried. As if she was going to be the one to spread around the gossip. Hermione looked at the three little messages for a long time. He was right. The whole concept of the app was no strings. There were no obligations and despite there being some very real strings between them, they didn't have to recognise them officially, did they?

Sitting down on the sofa, she tapped out a message.

**BKSANDWINE:** _What if I don't want to leave it?_

His reply was instant and it almost made her smile that he would be sitting over his screen, waiting for her.

**GEMJU580:** _Wouldn't that be a bad idea?_

**BKSANDWINE:** _I've just spent most of Christmas day in the company of my cat. Maybe I like bad ideas right now._

No response.

**BKSANDWINE:** _You have my address._

No sooner than she had hit the little send arrow, there was a knock at the door. Her heart jumped, but this time it wasn't because she was nervous about meeting him or that he would be a danger. Draco had spent the better part of the last decade doing as little as he could to make waves in the Wizarding World. And attacking her in her home would make far too many waves for him to deal with. She gave a little nod and stepped back, allowing him to come inside. He held out a bottle of pinot noir with a lot of French on the label. Hermione took the bottle by its neck and then looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

"You need to drink better wine," he said with a slight shrug and before she could say anything to him, he turned to face her. "I'm not going to ask you any questions about Potter or the Weasleys."

Hermione took a step back, surprised by the sudden statement. "I had no intention of asking you about your family." She set the wine down. "I'm also not going to ask you about the mobile, even if I'm curious."

"I don't care about that. I have one. It wasn't difficult to learn and it's been fairly useful when I want to not be myself for a few hours. Muggle girls don't look at me the way witches do," he said, taking his jacket off and draping it over a chair.

Her heart squeezed. Maybe out of pity? Maybe out of concern? She wasn't sure. "And now you have to be yourself. Because I'm me."

"You were literally the only person on that thing that actually talked with me in full sentences," He said with a half smile—he actually had a fairly nice half smile—and rubbed the back of his neck.

Hermione gestured to the sofa, shooing away the cat and brushing the cushion with her hand for a moment before she gave up. He was just going to have to deal with cat hair. It was a staple in her home. He took a seat and stretched out his legs looking actually quite comfortable despite the fact that they weren't truly friends or anything really.

She plopped down beside him. "Well I did appreciate the noticeable lack of suggestive language in your messages."

"I found that didn't endear me to anyone and it was horrifying to type out."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "You sent those messages?"

He put up his hands. "It was _one_ time and the girl blocked me because of it."

There was a pause in the conversation before Hermione burst out laughing. She couldn't help herself. Just the mental image of Draco Malfoy sending messages like the ones she had initially received. It was too funny. She clutched at her side and covered her mouth and after a moment she realised he was laughing with her. It felt good.

It went on like that all evening. The conversation was endless. They didn't mention school or the war. Instead it stuck to things about work and what she thought of the current Minister for Magic or how he'd managed at Gringotts and what he thought of the partnership between the British Ministry and MACUSA. Hermione was unsure and Draco was adamantly against 'boorish Americans running roughshod over everything'.

They finished the bottle of wine. Hermione had to admit there was definitely a difference between what he had brought and what she normally drank.

"Are you heading home?" she asked, setting aside her glass.

He looked at his watch. "I suppose I should."

There was this strange feeling in her stomach. Because after all of that she wasn't sure if she actually wanted him to leave. But perhaps pushing it beyond a pleasant conversation was blurring too much of the line between them. She watched as he put on his jacket and very much wanted to ask him to stop. To stay.

Perhaps that was all the wine's doing.

"It's been surprisingly nice, Granger," he said after a moment. "Certainly a step up from a tedious dinner with whatever family my mother was hosting tonight."

She got to her feet and walked with him toward the door. Once he was outside she closed it and leaned against it, cursing herself for letting the strings of their shared history get in the middle of what was a pleasant evening. After a moment, she lifted her head and realised she hadn't heard the familiar pop of disapparation. Turning around, she yanked open the door, looking first at his raised fist—poised to knock—to his face.

"Bad idea?" he asked, his voice raspy.

Hermione shook her head. "No... no, I like bad ideas right now..."

She moved to reach for him, but instead found him stepping across the threshold of her house and pulling her into his arms. His mouth caught hers and before Hermione could start to overthink about how it was _Draco Malfoy_ she was kissing, his head tilted and his lips cut across hers and something very wobbly and wonderful built up in her stomach. His hand caught the back of her neck and her arms wound around him, her fingers twisting in his hair. Oh. Oh, she'd never _imagined_ that kissing him would be like this. 

His mouth moved from hers and she made a little noise of protest until it firmly attached to her neck and her knees buckled.

Lord, all she needed was her foot to pop up like some sort of romantic heroine.

Her bedroom was dark and, thankfully, uncluttered. She didn't remember leading him there, but suddenly her legs were backed up against the mattress. Instinct took over at that point and she made short work of the belt at his waist and the zipper of his trousers before moving up to the buttons of his shirt. So many buttons. Too many buttons.

His hands skimmed along her waist before finding the zipper to her skirt. He pushed it and her tights down and even though there wasn't a dignified way to wiggle out of a pair of tights, Hermione managed to get them down past her knees and calves before finally stepping out of them. Her jumper ended up somewhere on the other side of the bed and before any sort of awkwardness started to take hold, he was kissing her again.

Hermione traced the spiderweb of scarring that spread across his chest, walking her fingers down over his abdomen. He went still for a moment, his own fingers brushing across the spot on her neck where Bellatrix's knife had cut into her skin. They both had their own wounds from the past, but neither one of them spoke on the subject. The touches were enough. They recognised the marks, and the gentleness seemed to offer an apology for what they represented. 

As her fingers continued their journey past his navel and she felt the muscles under his skin jump. A smile tugged at the edges of her lips just before she slipped her hand under the waist of his briefs to slide over the velvety skin of his erection. 

He let out a slight hiss before making short work of the clasp of her bra. Apparently two could play at this game and while her hand moved in slow strokes, his mouth found her nipple, alternating between a gentle flick of his tongue and suction that teetered very close to the edge of being painful. The shivering jolt that travelled down between her legs was thrilling.

At some point he'd tugged her knickers off, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had happened.

And she found that it really didn't matter. Not in the slightest. She didn't have time to even think about it, because he dragged himself away from her stroking fingers and pushed her legs apart. Hermione arched her back with a soft moan as his mouth pressed against her, tongue delving into her before moving to flick rapidly across her clit. Her hand came to the back of his head and she gripped his hair.

She moaned.

But the sound that came out of her when his fingers slid inside of her was entirely different. She arched her back, heels digging into the mattress. The sensations were blissful and explosive and it didn't take long before she was wound so tight that her whole body threatened to fly apart. She'd never been so vocal during sex. It had always been pleasant and pleasurable, but this was shockingly wonderful.

"Oh god," she cried out her body starting to shudder and her hips rocking upwards against his mouth. "I'm coming... I'm.. I'm coming!" She'd never announced it before. Never in that way. Never at that volume. He held her as she shook, her body contracting and releasing and pulsing and she felt as if someone had removed all of her bones all at once.

It wasn't over, though. He moved and she felt his cock dragging up against her thigh as he settled between her legs. With one quick movement, he thrust into her and stars seemed to burst behind her eyelids. It didn't take much for her to come again, her body reacting to the press of his as he bore her down into the mattress. Her legs lifted up and wrapped around his hips, pulling him harder against her. The squeeze of her body around his must have been more than he could bear because he let out something that was a cross between a groan and a bellow when he came, pushing deep into her with his release.

He pulled her close and moved onto his back, keeping them joined. Hermione leaned over and pressed a kiss to the middle of his chest before kissing her way up to his lips.

"There's going to be strings eventually," he said after a long moment, dragging his fingers down her bare back and over the curve of her bum.

"Definitely not the anonymous sexual encounter either one of us were aiming for... " She folded her hands under her chin and rested against his chest. "But I'm willing to leave those strings untangled for now... if you wanted to stay longer." She bit her lip and rocked her hips slightly.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. It made her chuckle because it brought her right back to her teenage years. She'd seen him make that expression before. Maybe it was something that they taught to all the Slytherins.

"You're going to need to give me half an hour or so..."

"And then?" She sat up.

His hand moved from her back to where their bodies were still joined, his thumb moving through the damp curls and finding her clit. The oversensitive little nub throbbed in response to his light touch and she couldn't help but groan.

"Alright with you?" he asked, pressing his thumb again.

Hermione's breath hitched and her eyes closed. "Perfectly alright. We can figure out these strings later."

And boy did they _ever_ figure them out.


End file.
